Glimpse
by tocourtdisaster
Summary: Completed Twenty different drabbles. Middleearth, as seen through the eyes of Hobbits, Men, Elves, a Wizard and a Dwarf. Chapter Five: Wizard and Dwarf NO slash, profanity, or violence
1. Hobbits

_**Disclaimer:**_ All names, characters, and locations mentioned in this story are property of the Tolkien Estate, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from this story. It was written purely for entertainment purposes.  
  
_**Notes:**_ This story is composed of 20 different drabbles, broken into five chapters. Most are book-verse, but some are movie-verse, and will be labeled as such. Writing drabbles, for me at least, is difficult. Some of these were made all the more difficult by the fact that I'm not very good at writing their characters. I hope I've done them justice.  
  
A drabble is a piece of writing that is exactly 100 words long, with a title of no more than 15 words.   
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
**Chapter One: Hobbits**  
  
Frodo Baggins  
"Frodo, my boy, there's been an accident." Forever will you remember those words uttered by your Uncle Rory on the day your life changed forever. You remember his look of utter grief and know that you mirrored this look yourself for quite some time.  
  
Everything else about that period of time is shrouded in a fog. You don't remember the funeral nor why you came to live with your cousin Saradoc and his wife. You remember nothing until the birth of Meriadoc, two years later.  
  
Holding baby Merry for the first time, you realized that life goes on. You smiled.  
  
Bilbo Baggins (movie-verse)  
You stand in the doorway. The Ring, a simple band of gold, seems to weigh more than the pack resting on your shoulders. Though you agreed just moments ago to leave the bauble, you are suddenly loathe to put it aside. You find that you do not have the will or desire to take it back to Gandalf.  
  
Slowly, you tilt your hand to the side. The Ring does not move until your hand is almost perpendicular to the ground. It's almost as if _it_ doesn't want to leave _you_.  
  
The Ring hits the ground. You wake from a dream.  
  
Gollum  
It hurts, precious, it hurts! Cruel orcses tortures poor, poor Smeagol. We no longer has the precious. Baggins stole the precious! Why does the orcses hurt poor, poor Smeagol? Cold steel hurts us, yes precious, it does. Fire burns us! We hurts!  
  
Orcses are hurting us for the precious. They wants my precious! They wants the precious for the Eye! They cannot have the precious. The precious is ours! Ours!  
  
Ropeses pulls our arms. It hurts, precious, hurts! Smeagol does not have the precious! Smeagol does not have It! It was ours and he stole it from us!  
  
"Shire! Baggins!"  
  
Rose Cotton  
Everyday, you spend at least a moment looking East, the way you last saw your beloved traveling. He told you, though he probably shouldn't have, that after leaving your homeland, he would turn South. You don't know his destination, but you hope he is safe wherever he is.  
  
News has reached you that he entered the Forest. You are told that if he went in there, he must be dead. The Forest is wild, they say. He did not come out where he went in and there is no way he could make it across the Forest.  
  
Still you hope.  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck  
I am alone. For the first time since leaving the Shire months ago, I am without Pippin. Gandalf has taken him away to Minas Tirith while I am to remain with Aragorn and the Rohirrim, at least until we reach Edoras.  
  
Why doesn't Gandalf believe that Pip and I can weather this new problem together? We've survived being eaten by Old Man Willow, attacked by Wights and Wraiths, and being taken captive by Uruk-hai. We could get through Pippin's foolishness like we always have: together. But Gandalf thinks it safer for Pip in Minas Tirith.  
  
And so I am alone.  
  
Peregrin Took  
Every spare moment of your day, you stand upon the wall and watch the city burn, fervently hoping to see some sign of the Rohirrim on the horizon. Endless hours pass with no hint of those who would come to Gondor's aid. But then you remember that it ultimately doesn't matter whether or not the White City falls. All that matters is that Frodo succeeds in his task to enter Mordor and destroy the accursed Ring.  
  
You turn to hoping that your cousin is alive and that he and his gardener are safe. They are the last hope for Middle-earth.  
  
Samwise Gamgee  
"Take care of the Master and the Master will take care of you," my gaffer would tell me at least once everyday. And take care of the Master I did, first Mister Bilbo, then Mister Frodo. I took care of the Master so much that I almost felt more at home in Bag End than Number Three.  
  
Now Bag End is home, in every sense of the word. Gaffer still lives in Number Three, with Widow Rumble taking care of him. I live in Bag End with Rosie, Elanor, and little Frodo-lad on the way.  
  
I'm the Master now.  
  
  
_***TBC***_  



	2. Elves

_**Disclaimer:**_ All names, characters, and locations mentioned in this story are property of the Tolkien Estate, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from this story. It was written purely for entertainment purposes.  
  
_**Notes:**_ This story is composed of 20 different drabbles, broken into five chapters. Most are book-verse, but some are movie-verse, and will be labeled as such. Writing drabbles, for me at least, is difficult. Some of these were made all the more difficult by the fact that I'm not very good at writing their characters. I hope I've done them justice.  
  
A drabble is a piece of writing that is exactly 100 words long, with a title of no more than 15 words.   
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
**Chapter Two: Elves**  
  
Arwen Undomiel  
You were born a princess, the Evenstar of your people, the image of Luthien Tinuviel. Your likeness to Luthien should not have been so surprising, as she was one of your ancestors, but most could not understand why you were born in the image of the Daughter of Twilight.  
  
As you grew older, it became apparent that you not only looked like Luthien, but that you were also of the same temperament. Those who had known Tinuviel thought you might embody her spirit, though that be impossible.  
  
And like Luthien, you chose love over immortality and passed from this world.  
  
Elrond Peredhil  
This small being's resiliency surprises me greatly. I have known only a few of his kind throughout my long life and never any made of as stern stuff as this one. What would make a stoic Elven warrior cringe in pain, this one bears without fuss or tears.  
  
This is indeed a poor way for the little one to begin his stay in Imladris. I must make certain that anything he may desire be put within his reach so he does not pull another bookcase down upon himself.  
  
"Estel I name you, child, and hope that you become much less clumsy."  
  
Haldir (movie-verse)  
Pain flares through my entire body for only a moment before being replaced with a feeling of nothingness. I am dying, though I don't know how I come by this knowledge. I had never before seen one of my kindred die, not before this night. Now I am surrounded by my fallen comrades, knowing I will join them shortly.  
  
Suddenly, my long life seems much too short. All my days were spent fighting, protecting my land, so that there would be some left to bask in peace. Now that will never happen.  
  
These are my last thoughts before I fall.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf  
Mortals never cease to amaze me. Their lives are so short, yet they accomplish much more than a great Elven warrior could hope to accomplish in the same amount of time. How they do this is certainly beyond my comprehension.  
  
The Men of Rohan, outnumbered and without hope, fought all through the night, eventually winning the day. The Men of Gondor lost their Steward to madness and still fought on, with only a slim chance of coming out victorious.  
  
As I watch as King Elessar ascends into his city, I am reminded that the time of Men is just beginning.  
  
_***TBC***_  



	3. Fellowship of Nine

_**Disclaimer:**_ All names, characters, and locations mentioned in this story are property of the Tolkien Estate, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from this story. It was written purely for entertainment purposes.  
  
_**Notes:**_ This story is composed of 20 different drabbles, broken into five chapters. Most are book-verse, but some are movie-verse, and will be labeled as such. Writing drabbles, for me at least, is difficult. Some of these were made all the more difficult by the fact that I'm not very good at writing their characters. I hope I've done them justice.  
  
A drabble is a piece of writing that is exactly 100 words long, with a title of no more than 15 words.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
**Chapter Three: Fellowship of Nine**  
  
Fellowship of the Ring  
Nine individuals, most strangers, given the task to go to the stronghold of the enemy and destroy His most valuable possession. Four kindreds, three not trusting of the others, the fourth trusting in all. One Wizard, wisest of all the Istari, who does not have the strength to fight the Demon of the Ancient World. Two destinations, one a stronghold of Men, the other the Mountain of Doom. Two members lost, one in the deepness of the world, the other in battle. Eight changed forever, never to be the same again.  
  
One Fellowship, entrusted with the fate of Middle-earth.  
  
Nazgul  
Nine Kings of Men, totally blinded and corrupted by their own greed, took nine magic rings without question and so passed into the Shadow Realm, becoming Wraiths of their former selves. The King of Angmar, strongest in life, stayed that way in pseudolife, leading the Nazgul in their reign of terror.  
  
Ages passed and the fallen kings became legend, nothing but a story told by the fire to scare children. But their did not fall out of existence. They remained, bound to Shadow and secrecy, until called upon by their Master, Sauron, servant of Morgoth who was the first evil.  
  
_***TBC***_  



	4. Men and one Woman

_**Disclaimer:**_ All names, characters, and locations mentioned in this story are property of the Tolkien Estate, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from this story. It was written purely for entertainment purposes.  
  
_**Notes:**_ This story is composed of 20 different drabbles, broken into five chapters. Most are book-verse, but some are movie-verse, and will be labeled as such. Writing drabbles, for me at least, is difficult. Some of these were made all the more difficult by the fact that I'm not very good at writing their characters. I hope I've done them justice.  
  
A drabble is a piece of writing that is exactly 100 words long, with a title of no more than 15 words.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
**Chapter Four: Men (and one Woman)**  
  
Aragorn son of Arathorn (movie-verse)  
It has been long since I visited here last. Ivy has grown over the small yet beautiful statue. Moss has imbedded itself in the letters engraved upon the statue's base. The Elves would have kept the statue tidy but that I asked them to leave it be.  
  
My mother is not buried in Imladris, but I feel closer to her here than in the settlement where her body lies. She raised me here and so this is the only place with which I will ever associate her.  
  
_I am going away, Mother. I may never come back. Please forgive me._  
  
Boromir son of Denethor (movie-verse)  
"This will be the death of the Hobbits!" Even before the avalanche, this was your thought. Now that it has become apparent that more than the ill-will of the mountain is at work, you wonder why the Company ever attemped this route. The Gap of Rohan would be easier for all, especially the Halflings. It doesn't matter how close Isengard is to the Gap; nine people could slip past Saruman. Gandalf was a fool to attempt the Pass, you think.   
  
Gimli mentions the Mines of Moria. After a moment of thought, Frodo chooses the Mines. He is a fool.  
  
Eowyn  
Alas that I was born a woman and not a man. Had I been born a man, I would not be riding in secret to war. I would not have need of a dead man's name, but would be able to ride openly with my uncle and brother. I would be able to earn renown for myself, not for Dernhelm.  
  
I take comfort in the knowledge that I am not the only one to ride in secret. Meriadoc rides before me on Windfola. Maybe we will find glory together on the battlefield. More likely we will find only death together.  
  
Faramir son of Denethor  
In my dreams, I am surrounded by fire. It is everywhere, scorching my skin, burning my hair. The flames lick at all parts of my body. The heat is unbearable, the pain unimaginable. Just when I think it can get no worse, I wake.  
  
I am covered in a cold sweat, yet I am shivering at the same time. This nightmare has plagued me since my father's death. I did not burn then, but I have burned every night since then.  
  
I will not begrudge this dream, though, because this is the only time my father show me any love.  
  
_***TBC***_  



	5. Wizard and Dwarf

_**Disclaimer:**_ All names, characters, and locations mentioned in this story are property of the Tolkien Estate, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am making no profit from this story. It was written purely for entertainment purposes.  
  
_**Notes:**_ This story is composed of 20 different drabbles, broken into five chapters. Most are book-verse, but some are movie-verse, and will be labeled as such. Writing drabbles, for me at least, is difficult. Some of these were made all the more difficult by the fact that I'm not very good at writing their characters. I hope I've done them justice.  
  
A drabble is a piece of writing that is exactly 100 words long, with a title of no more than 15 words.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
**Chapter Five: Wizard and Dwarf**  
  
Gandalf the Grey  
Old Toby has been my constant companion as I've waited for Frodo to wake. If I didn't know that I was in Rivendell, I would almost think I was in the Shire, popping in to check on Frodo.  
  
It is my fault that he is in this state. If I had only realized Saruman's treachery a little sooner, I could have escaped from him and been with Frodo on Amon Sul. I could have spared him a fortnight of misery.  
  
Frodo stirs slightly in his bed. "Where am I, and what is the time?" Ah, sweet music to my ears.  
  
Gandalf the White  
This feel oddly reminiscent, sitting beside the sickbed of a Hobbit, though I have come a long way since Rivendell, as has the lad. He has gone through more hardships than I could have imagined when I fought for his inclusion in the Fellowship. Had I know, I would have sent him home to his parents.   
  
But then where would we be now? I may not have fallen in Moria, the Company might not have separated, and Sauron may have reclaimed His Ring. No, it was better that he came along. It was obviously meant to be.  
  
"Get well, Peregrin."  
  
Gimli son of Gloin  
Where is he? Where is that impertinent young Hobbit? He has to be here somewhere. It's not as if he could have just disappeared into thin air, or thick air, as the case may be. He can't be far from here, this being the last place he was seen. He must be near. The field is littered with dead and dying, both Men and Orcs. But nowhere is a Hobbit to be seen in all the carnage. Where is he?  
  
A large troll's body lies in the field. As it is rolled aside, the foot of a Hobbit becomes visible.  
  
_**The End**_  
  
_**  
End Notes:**_ Thank you for reading these drabbles. I've worked hard to keep everyone in character, so I hope you all enjoyed them. Now, I would ask you to please review. Reviews to me are like lembas are to Frodo and Sam. They sustain me to keep going, keep writing.   
  
On a side note, I have now gotten a web journal (link in bio). Whenever I post a new story or a new chapter to an existing story, I'll put up a notice there. And one last thing: I'm planning on doing a major rewrite/revision/expansion of "Silver Lining," which I'll start later this month. I don't know when the first chapter will be up, but I hope to have it up soon after the new year. If you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know. My e-mail address is also available in my bio.  
  
Thanks again!!  



End file.
